Awake at 6:30; no one else is up. After my shower, I wander past the 3 sleeping beauties on the kitchen floor (this is becoming Standard Operating Procedure by now) to have devotions in the living room. That done, with everyone else still horizontal, I make my way up to Internet Access Central to post yesterday’s blog and, since speed seems pretty good this morning, to post some photos in earlier entries. (You might want to check those.) While I’m at the chapel, Gershon comes in and gets some work done. He has a girlfriend back in Hong Kong, you know, and they do a lot of communicating.
As I head back to the house, I see the hair salon is already set up under the shade tree next to the volleyball court. (Cynthia much prefers to do the braiding outside; I assume it simplifies cleanup.) Michaela is the subject this morning, with Charity helping.
Back at the house, Sarah and Jessica are making some breakfast. Looks like the crew is up and at ‘em. We spend the morning doing the usual array of stuff, from laundry to online stuff to reading to (in Jessica’s case) playing the piano at the chapel. Temps are relatively cool this morning, for which we’re thankful.
Ivy brings Chinese fried rice and fried chicken for lunch. It’s delicious. I’ve noticed that they don’t conform to the standard 8-piece butchering structure here; they kind of cut the old boy (or girl) up into whatever shapes and pieces suit their fancy. So you’re not always sure what you’re getting until you bite into it. On the plate, half a breast can look very much like a thigh. Though the legs are pretty much always recognizable.
After lunch the braiders go back to work, while the crew does the necessary planning for this afternoon’s VBS. They’re handling this like Charlotte Bronte now. (That’s “old pros,” in case you didn’t get the joke. And if you still don’t, give it some time; it’ll come to you.) There’s some confusion about VBS; some of the Ghanaian workers think it’s happening, and some don’t. One of the ones who doesn’t, unfortunately, is the bus driver, so the group is delayed as they fetch him from someplace distant. Eventually the whole group heads out.
My students are a little later than usual gathering at the chapel; we start about 20 after 5, but I have an impressive stack of hand-written final exams on my desk. I’ll spend the weekend grading them, but my initial thoughts are positive; it appears that they have done some writing, at least in volume. The schedule for NT Messages is ambitious; we’ll need to cover the introduction, all 4 Gospels, and Acts tonight. But the power stays on for all but about 5 minutes, and the group is attentive, and we move right along. I even let them go a few minutes early.
We’re covering the major theological themes rather than just listing content, so I enjoy seeing the students appreciate hearing things that they haven’t thought of before, such as the theme of authority in Matthew and the prominence of women in Luke / Acts. A light comes into their eyes when they recognize a new pattern. That light is every teacher’s inspiration. It’s a joyous experience.
After class, the house is empty. Where is everybody? Turns out they’ve gone over to the seamstress’s place to try on their new dresses (or in Gershon’s case, a shirt) and to make any adjustments. Many are planning to wear the dresses to tomorrow’s wedding, so they’ll need to be sure the clothes fit at least reasonably well. Soon a car drives up, and a parade of happy people piles in the front door. How did it go? Fine, great, awesome. I don’t ask for a parade of costumery; we’ll see them all dressed up in the morning and get some photos posted. I promise.
After devos we decide to have some ice cream. There another bag of vanilla Fan Ice in the freezer, which Timothy dropped by, as well as a plastic carton of strawberry, which our tall young friend Simon donated to the cause, so we have choices. Which we exercise.
Then to bed. We’re leaving for the wedding at 8:30 am, and there are showers and dressing up to be taken care of, so we’ll need to get moving quickly in the morning.